


Makes Three

by endgirl



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F, Fpreg, magical baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endgirl/pseuds/endgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cara lets her heart go walking around outside her body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makes Three

Cara stared at the thing in suspicion. It was only fabric and wood, she knew that. Carved by the finest artisans in the Midlands, it stood in the center of the room as if it had sprung from the very foundations of the Confessor’s Palace. Ancestral. The craftsmanship was stunning -- smaller than she had expected, and much sturdier.

The cradle itself was beautiful. It was what lay inside that troubled Cara.

She peered down at the little squalling person, furious red nestled in ivory sheets, and fought the urge to pull her Agiels. One quick jab to her own heart. That was all it would take to stop the excruciating feelings that twisted Cara’s gut with each tiny cry. Instead, she folded her shaking hands behind her back.

This was what she had fought for. She had battled and bled and died, more than once, so that she could give this to Kahlan. She had wept tears of astonished joy, her first in ever, when nurses almost as proud as she presented the child to her after the birth.

They had thought to name her after Cara’s mother, right up until the moment Cara realized she couldn’t remember it. She had told Kahlan only that she changed her mind, and the Confessor peered right through her but said nothing.

When the scribe had come to record the birth, another name was entered into the annals at Aydindril. The third Amnell Confessor, Cara had said with wonder in her voice. The first Mason, said Kahlan.

But the earliest weeks had passed quickly. The gush of maids and attendants slowed to a trickle. There were no more armies of diaper changers or pillow fluffers for Cara to command. No one to glower at as they attempted to comb wispy hair straight or take measurements for perfect, minuscule gowns. Even Kahlan, still radiant with the afterglow, had left to spend the morning in the council chambers.

Now it was just the two of them. Cara and the child.

As she stared into the face she created, she couldn’t help but remember the other baby. The one who never had a name and never would. Who had cried only once. The two were not alike, her brain insisted, not in any way. _Something about the eyes_ , her heart whispered.

Her daughter had only been crying for a few moments, but already the sound was agony. The wail sliced through red armor, through skin and muscle until it reached the marrow of Cara’s bones and settled there, pain she knew would never ease.

She cast one furtive glance around the Mother Confessor’s empty quarters. The dark, familiar voice that had taken hold of her when she was a girl crept into consciousness. It reminded her that someone might be lurking in the shadows to witness her failure. But Cara saw no one, and she reached for the cradle. She stretched out her hand, tan skin long freed from the gloves that Kahlan had forbidden within the walls of their rooms, and like a homing bird the child latched to it. Impossibly small fingers curled around one of Cara’s and held fast.

In that instant, her heart became the property of two Confessors.

\--

Kahlan leaned back against the pillows of the settee, light from the tall windows playing across her amused face.

“But how will she learn if you never put her down?” she said.

“There is no need for her to crawl,” Cara said dismissively, for the second time that evening. She cradled the baby close to her chest. “I will carry her.”

Kahlan let out an exasperated laugh. “Cara, she won’t be able to move around. She’ll never learn to walk!”

Cara pursed her lips and turned her nose toward the vaulted ceiling. “She has no need for walking, either. I’ll--”

“Carry her. Yes, I know,” Kahlan cut in. She shook her head with a smile and put a hand to her temple.

Cara huffed and looked down at the gurgling face nestled against her shoulder. Her arms or Kahlan’s: these were the only suitable places for their child. In the eight months since the baby had stolen Cara’s heart, she had sat on the floor exactly twice. Both incidents had occurred when Cara was forced to meet with leather-clad delegates from the People’s Palace -- an unavoidable task if she wanted to ensure the Mord-Sith’s loyalty to the new Lord Rahl. Richard had come to their quarters to spend the day with Kahlan, in case trouble arose that required greater intervention than the Home Guard could muster.

Cara had returned from each meeting to find the three of them giggling delightedly on the carpet, Kahlan and Richard exclaiming over each movement of the baby’s tiny limbs, or pointing out how much a certain expression matched Cara’s own. Cara had scooped the child up, scowled at Kahlan and Richard, and scrutinized every inch of her daughter’s skin for damage.

Cara’s teeth clenched at the memory of their carelessness. This was Kahlan’s first baby; she didn’t know what could happen. If you turned away for a single moment. If you let someone else take the person who was yours to protect. Kahlan couldn’t possibly realize. But Cara knew.

Kahlan studied the woman before her for a long moment, and then rose to cross the room. Warm hands found Cara’s waist and lips brushed against her shoulder, enclosing the baby between their bodies.

“I have an idea,” Kahlan said, peppering kisses along her neck. “Trust me?”

Cara had learned many lessons in the three years since she left her sisters and joined the Seeker. But she had not, as of yet, learned how to deny the Confessor anything. She found herself agreeing to Kahlan’s plan even as she sighed her distaste for whatever it might be.

With great patience and a bit of coaxing, Kahlan loosened Cara’s grip and pulled the squirming bundle from her arms. The baby cooed at Kahlan and patted her face with chubby hands. Kahlan kissed her forehead and was rewarded with a happy squeal. Cara held her own hands in fists at her sides and tried not to glare at her adversary, the floor.

The little Confessor liked it best when the three of them were together, and with each step Kahlan took she reached more fervently for the mother she had been separated from. Kahlan seemed to sense Cara’s urge to follow, because she glanced over her shoulder with a smile and held up her hand.

“You stay there,” she said, and Cara rolled her eyes at the stern tone.

“I’m staying,” she grumbled.

By the time Kahlan reached the closest window, the baby was twisting in her arms and Kahlan turned around to face the Mord-Sith. She knelt at the edge of room, and Cara winced as her daughter’s belly landed gently on the plush carpet in front of Kahlan’s knees. Small palms pushed up against the soft fabric, and wide green eyes took in the new angle of the room. When her gaze found Cara a few feet away, she let out an excited gurgle and bounced her legs against the floor.

She stretched eager fingers toward her mother, and it was all Cara could do not to respond to the request. She flexed her jaw and looked down at Kahlan. She tried to convey a message with her eyes -- _this is all your fault_ \-- but her mate just quirked a knowing eyebrow. She must be getting rusty.

Cara watched as her daughter reached and wriggled and reached some more, until the frustration brought angry red splotches to her face. When the tears began to fall, Cara’s tolerance for the game expired.

“That’s enough.” She stepped forward, ready to rescue the child from the horrors of the floor, but Kahlan held up her hand again.

“Stay there,” Kahlan said, her eyes on the small body in front of her.

Cara frowned. “Kahlan, this is rid--”

“Give her a moment.”

Cara looked at the baby, it seemed their agitation matched. “She isn’t ready.”

“Just _wait_.”

Cara folded her arms, but she obeyed. And though the sight made tendrils of pain tighten in her bones, she kept her eyes locked on the struggling infant before her.

And as she watched, she saw something start to change. Hands and feet began to bob in tandem, and frustration turned to gritty determination. Cara recognized that look. It was the same one Kahlan wore, the one that had made her fall hard and hopelessly for the Confessor.

She crouched down on the carpet, intrigued, as their daughter pushed up on one hand and then the other. When she pulled her knees up under her body, Cara felt her mouth fall open and her breath catch. She had no idea this was possible, had fiercely ignored all indications that it might be.

For a long time, the only movement in the room was the child rocking back and forth, the only sound her confident babbling. And then with one final forward thrust, she set off. She scooted ahead, clumsy and exceedingly pleased with herself. She dropped back to the carpet, raised herself up again, fell once more, and then started the whole thing over.

Cara watched the scene unfold, awestruck. Her baby was _crawling_. She was not prepared for the wetness that clouded her eyes or the choked sob that escaped from her smiling lips. Startled, Cara covered her mouth with her hand, and then she started to laugh. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before -- different, even, than the way she had felt the first time she met her daughter, or the first time she held her alone. This moment was something else entirely, and pride beat wildly in Cara’s chest.

The baby never lost sight of her goal, never stopped reaching toward Cara, and her toothless grin was wide with delight at her achievement. She was moving, all on her own. When she arrived at her mother’s outstretched arms and sat back on her bottom, Cara swept her from the carpet. She pressed the child close and squeezed her eyes shut. Warm hands landed on the wet skin of her cheeks, and she tucked her nose against silky brown hair.

Somewhere in the shadowed depths of Cara’s mind, the fading voice taunted her for revealing so much emotion, for going to pieces over a baby. But Cara refused to wipe at her tears, and her smile grew wide as Kahlan moved toward them across the floor. When her mate’s hands slid into her hair and their faces pressed together, Cara shoved the voice back into the darkness with a command not to return. She didn’t need it anymore.

This was her family.


End file.
